How To Deactivate A Cat

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(CBS) - Important news for cat owners! Many first-time cat purchasers are confused by the directions found in the box. Cats usually come in pieces, and quite a bit of assembly is required. It's overwhelming for new owners, and many may overlook some critical kitty components. That's where this helpful internet video comes in, showcasing an important switch you might not have known your cat had.

The deactivation switch, an essential button on any feline.

Of course, as they say - Read The Whole Thing because I don't want to cut and paste the whole article and get into trouble with the Fair Use Doctrine.

Shades of the ol' Vulcan Nerve Pinch, eh?

H/T Dave Barry

Ahh Tawk Funnah

Which American accent do you have?Western Western is kind of neutral, but not quite since it's still possible to tell where you`re from.  So you might not actually be from the West (but you probably are).  If you really want to sound "neutral," learn how to say "stock" and "stalk" differently.

Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

H/T D

What I Need is a Cowcatcher Mounted to the Front of My Truck

Coming home Friday I had to fight some pretty heavy traffic. I say fight because that is what it is - you have to fight and scramble for a spot in the traffic, and if one needs to change lanes, ya gotta fight to do that.

No wonder I hate big cities.

West of St. Louis on I70 just after the speed limit opens back up to seventy mph, the road narrows to a four lane (two each way). It's not enough. I went through there way before evening rush hour,  but it was Friday traffic, so it was already heavy.

I try to be courteous and think of how a professional trucker should behave. Really, I do. My truck isn't speed limited to 62 or so mph, so I'm right with most cars when it comes to catching the average fleet truck. I run faster than they do. I do not, however, run ten to fifteen over. I can't afford that habit. The revenuers out there will pull me over in a heartbeat for those velocities while yawning at Joe Sixpack in his Z71 or Mandy Soccer Mom in the Odyssey. Plus, I'm well aware that the average driver isn't paying enough attention to realize that I am running fairly fast - but not breaking the sound barrier as they are. I'm just another truck in the slow lane they gotta get around, often saving at least three seconds before their exit that is coming up immediately.

I try to get out in the fast lane and get the business done, then get over to let faster traffic go. Part of this compact is that by not hogging the left lane, I oughta have access to it when I need it, just like y'all do. So, how's that working for ya, Jeffro?

Not very f#$%ing good.

I'll get caught behind a slow vehicle (it isn't always a truck) with traffic beside me, so I'll turn on my signal to show my intentions - giving everybody notice that I need the lane. I can even see the gaps in the traffic coming that I'd fit. However, that simple act of honesty usually gets me trapped even further, because every one of those sonsabitches coming up will hammer on it to close the gaps.

WTF did I ever do to them? Not a damn thing. However, after about fifteen or thirty "four wheelers" go by, I start to lose patience. This time, I even cut over and started to put some of the self absorbed @$$holes in the median, but even they never lifted, and I didn't really want to see Officer Friendly that badly.

Every once in a while, someone will hold up and flash their headlights to let me in. I figure they are either a trucker who happens to be driving a car, or are related to one. I'm always grateful - blinking my marker lights and waving to them as they go by me on down the road.

Then, there are the traffic tie ups. Say there is a sign telling everyone that the far right or left lane is closing ahead - often in construction zones, but some are permanent fixtures. Specifically, I435 Westbound just past Antioch Road - the far right lane ends. I've gotta be in the next far right lane to get off at the I35 exit coming up - and since we all know how generous people are vis-a-vis trucks and traffic, I'll already be in the lane that remains.

Of course, the time was five thirty, right in the thick of evening rush hour. I was in that lane, patiently awaiting traffic to move - stop, move ten feet, stop, rinse and repeat. Ninety nine percent of the drivers had lined up in the correct lanes, leaving that closing right lane wide open.

Well, you know there is gonna be some self absorbed @$$hole who cannot wait and will drive down that right lane with their left turn signal on looking to force their way in and save themselves three seconds from their day. And no one will let him in if they can help it, including me. He could have gotten in back where everyone else who was merging got in, but nooooooo. He had to jump the line.

So who does he pick on to try to force his way into the line? Not Suzy Soccer Mom. She ain't budgin' one little bit. She won't dilly dally when traffic speeds up - keeping about two feet off the bumper of the car ahead of her. Same for Joe Sixpack.

Trucks, on the other hand, don't accelerate as quickly. So Mr. Self Absorbed @$$hole parks himself just ahead of my bumper, hoping I'll not be able to keep the gap closed and he can force his way in. Notice he didn't pick Mr. Cross Town Express - the guy in the beat up fleet chicken hauler who's truck shows the many scars from many minor scrapes and bruises. Obviously, he's been in a few scrapes already and just doesn't care if you in your Beemer want in or not. He drives in this crap all day long and frankly doesn't give a rat's ass if you both end up on the side of the road waiting for a cop to arrive.

I'm a different story. My truck is clean and shiny, and my bumper and fenders are straight. I've never hit anyone. This is actually a mark against me, because it makes me the target for these buttwipes. Sooner or later, after I've shown I can keep the gaps closed, he'll just start coming over and dare me to run him over. Since it's not my truck and I have some pride in keeping it up, I'll be forced to let him in. He's already an @$$hole, so he can stand me laying on the air horn to let him know he's what he is. That won't bother him a bit.

Should I win the lottery and become King of the World, well, look out. I'm puttin' a cow catcher on the front of my truck, and I'm gonna be looking for some payback. Try forcing your way in front of me? Hammer down, baybee, and your slick import will be a gouged and dented wreck in a split second. So much for saving that whole three seconds out of your day. So you don't want to let me over? In the ditch for you, sucker. Y'all know who you are and you've been warned.

Important CPR Technique

Super Sexy CPR from Super Sexy CPR on Vimeo.
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I hope everyone learned something of value here.

Sometimes You're Good

Then sometimes yer just damn lucky. That would be me.

I changed the oil in the ol' hot rod this weekend to run another 10k miles, and thought I was good to go. Holidays are generally verboten for oversize, so we didn't leave the yard until Tuesday. Several of us were headed to Michigan. About a hundred and fifty miles or so, it seemed the thing to do was pull over so we could all take care of business, if you know what I mean and I think that you do.

I stepped out of the cab and noticed oil. Lots of oil on my fuel tank, side of my cab, dripping from my front mud flap, and gradually spreading down the side of my truck into the rear wheels and just everywhere in general.

Uh oh. Popped the hood and it was what I'd feared. I had not replaced the oil fill cap. The oil fill caps are set up so when you tighten them, the rubber seal expands. They're supposed to be pretty tight. Factory new trucks generally have a small chain attached as well - so losing it is more difficult. Unless you're me, apparently. Not every NAPA Know How specialty store carries stuff like this for trucks. Your car? Probably. Class 8 trucks? Crapshoot.

But, all was not lost. Looking down at my steering gear found the wayward cap exactly where I'd put it to fill the engine with oil. It had ridden there undisturbed for quite some time.

So, now I've got an oily truck - the oil level wasn't lowered much. It doesn't take a whole lot of it to make one hell of a mess - especially when it's spread around by some high speed wind. Fast forward to this afternoon - in Michigan waiting on some escorts to catch us. One noticed the ol' sweet antifreeze smell coming from my truck. I couldn't smell it, but popped the hood anyways.

On the big trucks, radiator hoses are mostly long stretches of pipe with short sections of hose to attach the pipe to the block or radiator. Looking at my bottom hose hooked to the block - the clamp had just broken. The welds holding the screw housing had failed and the remains were dangling. It was the upper clamp (two per hose) fastening to the block, and the hose had even come loose. I happened to have an extra clamp, and my compadres fastened it in place. Oh, and by the way. Cast iron retains heat for some time, just so you know. Eight or ten gallons of antifreeze and water later, I was good to go.

Now, with all these electronics on the damn things, this was unpossible. There is a low coolant level sensor that should have gone off. It did not. I didn't run it out of coolant to the point that it started heating up, but had we pulled out from the truck stop, I'd have been lucky to make it a mile. Once the water temperature gets up so far, if you don't pull over and shut down, the control module will. Shut down, that is. Managing to steer the thing and get it over to the side of the road with no power is up to the driver after that - overcoming the power steering hydraulics plus the regular steering effort unmasked by the functioning hydraulics. Or, who knows? Maybe the ECM would have let the motor seize up and die a horrible death. That would have been popular with the powers that be back home.

So I was damn lucky. Thank you, God.

Independance Day 2011

There is always that look, with the pressure of assumed agreement. Yep, the ol' US of A has overreached with it's greedy empire building (yeah, we've really been expanding), or guzzled at the trough of abundant food and energy (we found it, we grew it, we're using it), or how heartless we are with our health care (the world comes to us for quality care) -  we need to be more civilized like Europe (our Republic is an anathema to the socialists) . The military is contemptible, with their use of mild torture (compared to who?) or accidentally hitting some civilians in a war zone (excuse me? Terrorism is A-OK while our inadvertent civilian deaths make us morally bankrupt?) . Our open border policy is too strict, and is racist to boot (just try to get into Mexico from the south and see what strict border enforcement is all about). Our Constitution needs to be more up to date and progressive. Judges should be able to legislate their emotional responses from the bench so our laws are not so jarringly different than the other regimes out there.

If you identify with traditional values, then you are a fat cat Republican (or worse, a TeaBagger) who is aiming to crush the elderly because we feel the government cannot continue to fund unlimited retirement and health care , discriminate against people of color by expecting some sort of return on welfare, food stamps and so on rather than just continuing to propagate a society that has no plans of ever working. Spending money we'll never have and printing money as a means of creating wealth in order to fund large corporations, banks and unions is apparently the new road to prosperity, regardless of the evidence before our eyes. And God - well, you really are a slope headed flyover country imbecile should you have God in your life.

You just aren't "with it" if you find yourself nodding in agreement at what I say.

I'm tired of it. I'm getting pretty cranky, frankly.

Stop dissing the country and enjoy what we've built here. We fought to get away from a lot of the crap y'all are foisting on us, and we haven't forgotten that, either. Remember.

Danica Earns Some Respect

Last night's Subway Jalapeno 250 winner was Joey Logano, while Danica Patrick earned tenth place, six places worse than her best Nationwide finish so far.

However, the order of the finish doesn't always tell the full story. Danica has been the center of some controversy in NASCAR as well and IndyCar because of the perceived ratio of driving talent versus marketing skills. She's good looking, and uses her looks as well as her racing fame to forward her career. She's only won one race in IndyCar - where she won on fuel mileage. Even in NASCAR that seems to warrant an asterisk beside the win in the record books. So, the argument that she's all marketing and not enough talent dogs her in both series. Plus, her record in her development series (Formula Ford, Formula Vauxhall, Barber Dodge Pro Series and Toyota Atlantic) is impressive with the highest finishes by a woman, she never actually won a race or championship.

Danica has so far only committed to a partial schedule in Nationwide in an apparent effort to learn and get her feet wet without jumping in whole hog, as it were. She has shown an ability to mix it up at times, and has made her share of rookie mistakes. All to be expected.

She is also with a top tier team - JR Motorsports, owned by Dale Earnhardt, Jr. - but is really run on a day to day basis by his sister Kelley, with help from uncle and cousins Tony Eury Sr (Pops). and Jr. Lately, in IndyCar, Andretti Motorsports isn't necessarily the top tier team she needs to provide her with top notch equipment. So, the rumors abound that she may come over to NASCAR on a permanent basis. Her sponsor GoDaddy's owner Bob Parsons has unequivocally stated his company will support her whatever her decision - so she's got the sponsorship nailed down to bring to a Sprint Cup team.

Plus, there is a lot of debate and anecdotal evidence that the jump from open wheel to NASCAR just may be too great these days. AJ Foyt, Parnelli Jones, Tim Richmond and many others ran cars in whatever they chose and succeeded in all of them. Jeff Gordon, Ryan Newman and Tony Stewart were open wheel champs. One thing to note is that the last three spent some time in the Busch/Nationwide series percolating before jumping to Cup.

But today's open wheel champs are struggling. Most notably is Juan Pablo Montoya. He is a Formula One champion, fer cryin' out loud. Sam Hornish, Jr. gave up driving for the Captain (Roger Penske) in IndyCar and moved to NASCAR Sprint Cup. His lack of success finds him in the Nationwide series. Jacques Villeneuve and Patrick Carpentier couldn't cut it. Dario Franchitti (Mr. Ashley Judd) - an oval IndyCar champ seemingly ready made for NASCAR failed as well. He's done well since going back to the open wheelers.

So, there is a lot of pressure on Ms. Patrick. Can she cut it? Can she win?

One very huge hurdle is learning "the draft" at a "restrictor plate" race such as Daytona or Talledega. Danica's last drafting challenge found her wanting as she didn't seem to want to take turns pushing. Daytona has a brand new paved surface that has changed the racing from huge clumps of cars to single sets of two, one a pusher and one driving the train. They have to switch off because the pusher will eventually overheat following so close in the draft. The strategies for winning the plate races have changed considerably (If you don't understand "restrictor plate" - Wikipedia has a very good article explaining it far better than I could). She had a notable tendency to take advantage of a pusher, but tried to race them when they wanted to switch off, dropping both of them far back in the pack.

So, with all that, she must have done pretty well last night for me to write up an article about her today, right?

Yep, she did.

Tony Stewart teamed up with her for a while, and she really appeared to learn a lot. He pushed Danica to the lead - the first time a woman has led a NASCAR race at Daytona. She was having problems with the idea that dragging her brakes was a necessity to keep the cars together - when she'd get bumped and sped up, she'd leave her pusher behind and they'd slow down and lose the leaders. She picked up on that technique in a hurry. Danica actually pushed well, too. She and Eric Almirola (a teammate with JR Motorsports) hooked up and towards the end it really appeared the race was hers to win, if she only timed it properly. Her decisions when she was being pushed were improving greatly as well - she was threading her way through some pretty narrow spots and making it work.

But, she got excited and jumped to the lead several laps too early, leaving her competitors way too much time to run her and the 88 down and pass. At the last lap, she and the 88 were taking the outside groove and making a run for the lead when Mike Wallace got into Danica. After she brushed the wall, she caromed off Mike and a clot of cars hit the wall together, sliding across the finish line, Danica in tenth.

Rather a spectacular finish, frankly. This is no guarantee that she will win in the future. This was also a restrictor plate race - not a road course nor a short or intermediate oval, either - all of which require a completely different set of skills to master and win. "Running in the draft" in NASCAR is a completely different animal than it is for IndyCar, and Danica Patrick has demonstrated to me that she has picked up the necessary skills to be successful in that particular endeavor.

It would also seem logical to assume that the other skills needed for success are within her grasp with some more experience. If she does "come over," I really hope for her sake that she chooses to run at least a full season in Nationwide rather than jump right in to Cup level competition. That was a grievous error that her less than successful predecessors made, and are suffering the consequences now. Showing flashes of talent and success in the Nationwide series is not a guarantee of success in Cup. Cementing her abilities before the huge jump in the competition level can only help.

And for the record? I was one of the "all hat and no cattle" people before. I thought she was severely overrated and overhyped. Frankly, I still think that, but I also now believe that there is a very good possibility that Danica Patrick can back it up. Good luck and go for it, Danica!

It's Like....

George knew what was coming or sompthin'.....

"The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to create whatever the form of government, a real despotism. A just estimate of that love of power, and proneness to abuse it, which predominates in the human heart is sufficient to satisfy us of the truth of this position." --George Washington, Farewell Address, 1796

Sigh.....

Better Mood

Well, after yesterday it's probably anticlimactic to play the "What Skyline is This?" game. I do wonder just what the huge structure off to the left (west) is. This picture was taken northbound on Texas 288 just coming in. The big sports arena was by US59 - we didn't take I45 through town to get to 288 - we used a free part of the Belt 6 loop to go from I45 over to US59 - then down to 288. Coming back was the reverse. Traffic on that route wasn't all that bad - it was nothing compared to what we ran into going through Ft. Worth. We were following US287, but rather than follow it while it runs with I35W, we had the bright idea to try the eastbound side of the I820 loop. Every time I've ever been on I35W it has always had several areas that turned into parking lots. I820 was stop and go from where TX121 (Airport Road) merged until we got to I35W, and it was more of the same until we finally got to the US287 split. By the time we got to Decatur, we'd had enough.

This is the Sam Houston giant statue that northbounders on I45 going through Huntsville, TX get to see. Everything is bigger in Texas.

And, it really wasn't as humid this trip, either. North of Houston is under a burn ban, and the kids are getting screwed out of their fireworks this year. Most counties have outlawed the sale and use for this year because of the drought.

I gotta say that their droughts don't hold a candle to ours - we'd figure we were rolling in rain if everything was as green as that area is.

And our traffic jams are when you get caught behind a tractor or combine and can't pass for about a minute or three.

Blecch...

My compadre and I are headed for somewhere around Freeport, TX. We are currently holed up in a motel north of Houston, and will have to drive through that fine city to get to our destination.

I hate Houston. It's hot and humid. The Poor Farm hit 110 degrees F yesterday, but I'd so much rather be there than here. The drivers around here suck. I swore the last time here I'd not forget anything, because I sure as hell didn't want to come back.

Oh well. Thank you, God, for air conditioning.

Hot Wheels! Too Cool!

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This is just plain awesome. I thought I had a few Hot Wheels cars back in the day, but wow! Apparently not.

I guess I'll always be that little boy that loved playing with his and his pals' Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars. A gearhead forever!

Stolen from Mike Elgan

These Guys Are Nuts

Crop dusters. Spray pilots. Aerial applicators or top dressers. Whatever the substance they are spreading over the crops - they're crazy. Or they are highly skilled pilots who shave the edges of safety to do their jobs. Yeah, that's what they are - not adrenaline junkies what. so. ever.

The whole industry got it's start in the US with the ready availability of war surplus Boeing-Stearman Model 75s that were converted to air spray rigs. All you have to do is say "Stearman" around farm country and everyone thinks of this plane. Hell, when one says "biplane," this is what most of us picture in our minds.

The Grumman Ag Cat was the next step in the evolution of the aerial applicators. All one has to say is "Ag Cat" and yer average farmer knows just what you're talking about. Some of them had radial powerplants as well. One can kinda see how the design mimics a stunt plane, too.

Today's winnah and champeen design is the Air Tractor. The different sizes that this company makes are all powered by increasingly rated Pratt and Whitney turboprop motors - you can really hear these puppies whine and whoosh when they are at work. The hopper is actually in between the motor and the pilot - thus the long nosed look. Plus, the tail is close to the wings for a short couple for increased maneuverability and quick response. These suckers would make great stunt planes except for one feature - the asymmetrical airfoil on the main wing. Since the whole purpose of these beasts is to carry a heavy load and dump it close to the ground at a controlled rate, but remain highly maneuverable to be able to turn around and get back to the crop in a short time - well, lift while being upside down is really not that necessary. Better to sacrifice that and have a high lift wing under more "normal" usage. Of course, normal sometimes includes riding the rudder knifing through a turn with the wings vertical to the ground as well. So, instant on high power is pretty useful if the pilot expects to succeed in some of the moves he makes regularly as part of his job.

And, some don't live. One of my childhood buddies died about twenty years ago in an imported plane - I can't remember if it was Czech or Polish, but it was a biggun with a big motor. It was certainly distinctive - I could see it coming along and know it was Neal at work. When I was driving my old hotrod Cummins and catch him skimming along, I'd stand on it three times to blow three smoke signals. He'd waggle his wings and give three short bursts of chemical as an answer. Of course, he'd seen me rolling along and he'd fly a bit out of his way so I could see him or he could sneak up on me to buzz me and catch me unaware. He'd kinda swoop down on me and crack open the throttle, and it would sound like my truck was coming apart. Then I'd see him fly on over and realize what had happened. Ornery sucker, anyhow.

But, one day he was working over a feedlot when his motor just quit. These things may have great rates of glide or whatever, but when they're loaded and only fifteen or twenty feet off the ground, well, they're gonna be landing right there, immediately if not before. He went down in a bunch of welded steel rail pens set in concrete. His landing gear caught the pipe, flipped him over and stopped the plane right then and there. It was just bad luck. Had he been over some corn or milo - he'd have set it down, figured out what was broke, fixed it and went back to work.

And rare indeed is the crop duster who hasn't crashed. Most have cracked up several planes. They've made their peace with the idea that the job is dangerous a long time ago.

What prompted this post was my catching one of these nuts at work, and realizing he was working around a power line. Some fly under the lines, but I think these lines were just too low. At any rate, he knew what I was up to and shaved it pretty close to give me a show. I'm sure he could see me holding my phone up to the windshield to record his mad skilz.

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Of course, my phone is hardly the best thing for recording important stuff, but it's all I had. I go to war with the tools I have. You can see him coming from the left to the right, and he lifts up to just clear the line. He kind of turns along the line, floating just above it, and turns back to go the other way. He was working a circle - from a center pivot irrigation setup, and his application plan was to work from the outside in, so he didn't have to waste a bunch of time in the air turning back and forth if he was to apply in adjacent strips. They've all got GPS setups now, so they can line right up these days without flaggers, toilet paper roll markers, or whatever, and they can blank some "rows" and come back and catch them later.

Plus, it should be noted that a lot of aerial applicators use helicopters as well - they are much better at getting around obstacles like powerlines and trees. However, they are more expensive as well as being maintenance hogs that are really quite unreliable. Those pilots are nuts in a different fashion.

Anyways, hope ya enjoy!

Sheesh!

Enough, already. Micheal Jackson is DEAD. He's been thataway for a while now.

WTF is he doing on my tv this morning? Get over it, fer cryin' out loud. Go away.

I Like Opposite Day

Get some, Pig! It's about time!

Mine! Mine! All Mine!

Well, I wish - I'd settle for a minor percentage of the gross. East of Point of Rocks, WY along I80 one can see a strip coal mine in action. Google-fu has determined the mine is the Black Butte Mine.

I've kvetched before about how the oil industry giants are actually energy companies, and that they are heavily invested in other forms of power producing methods - green, pie in the sky tech - whatever. GE is actually kind of an outlier with their wind power division - they aren't normally associated with Big Oil. So, guess who owns the Black Butte Mine?

That would be Anadarko, of Big Oil fame and fortune. Anadarko, who purchases a major portion of my company's products, which in turn keeps me in midget porn and Cheetos. Just thought I'd get that little disclosure out of the way, as it were.

Westbound on I80 on the east side of the mine - distance makes the dragline seem small, but I can guarantee you it is not. Small.

Eastbound on I80, on the west side of the facility - showing the small mountains of tailings.

Same thing different view. There just might be a ton or three of material there.

Another view of the dragline from the eastbound side. There are actually two working down in the hole. Apparently driving 75mph distorts time and space on the Mighty Binder.

And, as an added bonus, whilst Googling around I found this:

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This area isn't even noted for mining - the Powder River basin is where most of Wyoming's coal production originates. I've been through there, too, but you can't see the mines from the road. Between Douglass and Wright, WY is one of the largest rail car repair yards you'll ever see. They ain't working on grain hoppers or boxcars there, either. All coal cars.

Both areas are in a whole lot of nuttin' but desolate country. Grazing is pretty sparse for cattle, but the antelope seem to like it just fine. It's far, far different than what I'm used to for sure.

Happy Fathers Day!

Violet was quite the little bitch, eh? And Charles is a gentleman.

Happy Fathers' Day for all the dads out there - y'all know who you are!

RIP Big Man

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Clarence Clemons, sax player and pillar of Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band, passed away at the age of 69 due to complications from a stroke suffered last weekend. I'd read about the updates that The Boss was handing out then.

The whole Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band experience had little in common with the life of a Great Plains farm boy. Their music spoke of an entirely different and foreign existence compared to what little I and my friends had experienced. However, the talent shone through - even us country bumpkins knew when we were hearing greatness.

Jungleland is my favorite Springsteen tune - even more so than Born to Run, which was kind of an anthem even to us. Mr. Clemons also has a substantial solo that successfully captured a gamut of emotions that even a musical dullard like myself could identify.

RIP Big Man.

Back Door Gun Control

We as gun owners seem to be getting our way more and more often these days. The number of states approving CCW have ballooned, the District of Columbia has been spanked, open carry is becoming more prevalent, and the Brady Bunch is a shadow of their former selves. Even Teh Won has seemingly backed off the issue of gun control, much to the chagrin of his supporters (along with getting us out of the Middle East, closing Gitmo and so on as well).

However.

I've always thought this administration would try some sort of back door method to curtail and eliminate our Second Amendment rights, perhaps through the United Nations:

It may not come as surprising news to many of you that the United Nations doesn’t approve of our Second Amendment. Not one bit. And they very much hope to do something about it with help from some powerful American friends. Under the guise of a proposed global “Small Arms Treaty” premised to fight “terrorism”, “insurgency” and “international crime syndicates” you can be quite certain that an even more insidious threat is being targeted – our Constitutional right for law-abiding citizens to own and bear arms.

As they say, Read The Whole Thing. It's not just our gun rights at stake here - it's our sovereignty as a nation that is on the chopping block as well. All in the name of multinationalism and multiculturalism. A no borders world just won't work as well if us mouth breathing rednecks hang on to our guns and our Bibles, because we will always have the most effective means of resistance available to us. Obama has already shown his disdain for constitutional restrictions on his power (see powers of war, for instance). He's also shown his tendency to run to the UN for any validation he deems necessary. It is certainly no stretch of the imagination to see the administration's and the UN's intent. Now would be the time to get better acquainted with your Senators. I'm gonna be saying plenty to Pat Roberts. I'm sure I'll be preaching to the choir with him at least. He's shown a remarkable willingness to listen to his constituents in the past - with me, anyways.

Exactamundo!

Yannow, after all the close encounters with surgeons and doctors over the years, I was kinda in the hopes that maybe the experiences would make me more tolerant of my fellow man and more willing to forbear minor annoyances. You know, to show I was grateful to be alive and all that.

Let's just say that didn't pan out.

Two Men At Age Twenty

Raiding the email inbox again today - this one has been making the rounds:

Wow, talk about pictures being worth a thousand words! Here's Benjamin Netanyahu at 20 and Barack Obama at 20. Think either has changed much? Me neither. Which one would you choose to watch your back?

Netanyahu basically handed Our Fearless Community Organizer (you know, the guy who had all kinds of foreign affairs experience by voting "present" in the Senate) his ass when Teh Won brought up his brilliant scheme to roll back Israel's borders to 1967 lines. Plus, Obama knew it and was just a tad upset according to Washington insiders.

And here I thought it was the Republican Nixon who had the potty mouth.

Amateur hour for US foreign policy. Who'd a' thunk it?

Important Health Announcement

The CDC has just released an important message regarding a new strain of an old disease. Announcement below the fold:

No Truer Words.....

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This song always gives me pause and causes me to reflect.

I've seen the needle
and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone
But every junkie's
like a settin' sun.

Of course, when Neil Young wrote and first performed Needle and the Damage Done the drug culture hadn't really been exposed to meth (or crank) or for that matter cocaine. Those iconic drugs would come later. He was writing about heroin, injected by needle, and mourning the loss of fellow musicians. The first part of the song sets the tone - how he'd seen the damage done, hit the city and how his fellow musicians kept dying, even after some success. Milk blood to keep from running out - the lengths junkies go to make sure they can get high again.

But the last stanza - wow. A little part of it in everyone. Isn't that so true? Most of us have some sort of addictive or compulsive behavior, whether it's cigarettes, booze, gambling, or some other vice. I've sure had my share of vices and the last one - eating - I just cannot seem to control. Granted, it's not heroin addiction by any means, but it's a little part of it in me, and I do understand. After all my surgeries and procedures involving opioids for pain control I can tell you it's probably a damn good thing I never got into the *ahem* recreational use of said drugs. I know I've got addictive tendencies, and while the truckers' drug has it's charms (I'm being sarcastic here), and blow for your nose was almost a social requirement at one point - they can't hold a candle to the derivatives of the poppy.

But every junkie's like a settin' sun. That phrase right there is the coup de grace on several levels. Everybody has their own light - talents, skills, personalities - an individual beacon that drug addiction dims and eventually puts out. And they go out brightly as well - burning themselves out, fighting society with their denial and hiding their pain, refusing help. In a flaming nosedive, they extinguish themselves.

I've made my past no secret. I and several friends have managed to avoid that fiery crash. One of them and I have discussed this at length, and we feel like we made it through the fire. Plus, on the other side, we found each other and discovered why we were friends in the first place. Our relationship is the stronger for it. We are both in pain for those still on the other side of that fire - maybe they just toke up a little, or they're still methheads, or whatever. The divide exists because they are trapped in their delusions, and consider us some sort of traitor or similar. They are the ones who are living their lives the way they want, and are free because of it. We, on the other hand, are sellouts to the man, or something. Whatever it takes to continue consuming that drug without admitting to the logical disconnect that they aren't free, they are in thrall to the drug and all that goes with it - the societal dismissals by the so called upper crust plus the acceptance by the dregs - those who use and deal, the continual lack of money the associated problems with obtaining more to get their fix - theft or prostitution, their poor health and so much more.

There aren't as many of the heads left anymore. They keep dying off far faster than my clean and normal compadres.

And every time I hear Neil sing this song, all of these thoughts rush through my head. I remember.

I'm Still Kickin' Part II

Sorry about the lack of posting - been pretty busy. My assignment for Monday was to take some three hundred barrel steel tanks to a yard near Greeley, CO. Sunday I saw the only trailer loaded with the appropriate tanks was missing a wheel and hub - one of our drivers didn't get very far with that load earlier in the week. I called my dispatcher, and she had the idea that it would be fixed and ready to go first thing Monday morning.

Welp, that would be a pretty good trick, because the axle stub would be totally screwed. The old axle will have to be torched out and a new one welded in. The axle fairy isn't gonna take care of this repair.

I happened to see the chief of our loadout crew in Wally World Sunday - you know, the meet and greet place of the Midwest. He had no clue that load needed to be ready Monday. He told me he'd have a load ready for me next morning.

But, they start loading about the time we start leaving in the morning. I figured the extra hour of sleep would do me good, and sure enough, when I got in, the load had just been finished and off I went.

Before I got there, I got a call. One of our trucks bound for Idaho was having engine issues. The newer motors with regeneration capabilities of soot traps are proving to be far, far less than reliable. Two of our trucks have spent some serious time and money in the shop lately, and apparently the repairs aren't finished. I had to unload, haul hiney back to a truck stop east of Denver, drop my trailer and hook my compadre's load to hurry up and get to near Boise ID for a Wednesday morning crane appointment.

Monday night found me in Rawlins, WY at a half hour after sunset - the latest I could drive. I was pretty wound and didn't get much sleep. Yesterday, I caught up with the other two drivers with the other two tanks at Little America - they'd made it that far Monday, but one had found a water leak and the repair shop there was fixing it.

I didn't have an Idaho permit yet, but that issue was finally resolved about halfway through Utah. I pulled into our customer's site at about seven pm our time, dropped the trailer, ran back into town for a motel, and just generally crashed.

This morning finds me waiting for the crane - I'll be "tailing" the tanks helping the big crane. When we get that done, the rest of the week will be used up getting home.

Just another week in trucking paradise!

Mother Nature is a Stone Cold Bitch

Naturally, I had left my camera inside. As I was bringing some groceries inside today, I heard a bleating noise on my first trip. Figured it was some kind of bird. My second - I'd ditched my glasses, billfold and phone before heading out for more bags when I saw the source of the bleating.

There was a pretty fresh whitetail fawn circling around my yard and pickup. It had heard the commotion when I drove in and decided to inspect the situation in hopes Mama might be there. The little snot tripped right along, stopping to call for it's mother, then moving those impossibly long legs with surprising grace. The poor little thing headed out into the CRP across the road, but the open country with heavy cover must have seemed very intimidating, because it turned back, circled around and headed into my back yard. It hasn't learned to fear man - yet.

If it and Mama don't hook up pretty quick, the little snot is toast. Coyote chow.

I know that deer border on being major pests around here, but I hate to see a baby anything suffer. Maybe the toddler can survive hanging close to the cattle here and the shelter of the farm. There is plenty of food and water here, too, even if my neighbor really isn't putting it out for lost fawns. That forlorn hope is why I didn't rush right out with a camera, because I didn't want to run the little devil off by scaring it. I figure it's frightened enough the way it is.

Like it or not - this is the way life is. "Mother Nature" or Gaea or whatever isn't real but rather a human construct - anthropomorphizing a concept. The Great Wheel of Life doesn't give a rat's ass about this little fawn - coyotes gotta eat, too. And I guess I'm a hypocrite, because given half a chance, I'd shoot this little sucker right in the brisket if it were grown and I had the appropriate tag.

But I still hate to see something like this happen.

It's A Living

Chris Byrne of The Anarchangel has been posting about some of his health problems lately. He's got some sort of imbalance going on, plus he has a tumor in his neck. The health care pros do not want to operate until he loses weight, and one of the symptoms he's dealing with is edema. His weight has been cycling up and down with the excesses of water retention, and he's found that temperature regulation is a bitch as well.

Welp, welcome to the club, dude. Just call me stumpy.

My toes look like little sausages, and that is scar tissue on the shin. About all I've gotta do to bleed is brush against something solid, and then I've got a slow healing wound that leaves a mark. Do that for several years, and you get some seriously unattractive skin. The longitudinal scar is where the heart surgeon harvested some veins for my bypass surgery. And yeah, I think that big toenail has a fungus - I keep forgetting to say something to the doctor.

More of the same. I've gotta wear diabetic socks because the tops of regular socks cut into the swelling and hurt like hell after several hours. Even the diabetic socks leave a mark - these pics were taken in a motel after a couple hours of running barefoot, so the indentations were gone.

What makes my situation irritating for me is that the diuretic (furosemide, or generic Lasix) is supposed to be taken daily, preferably in the morning. This stuff fills the ol' bladder about every ten minutes at first, to every half hour after four to six hours. Which means a lot of peeing. Which means were I to take it driving, I'd be pulling over more than going down the road, plus probably getting ticketed for indecent exposure. Okay, so take it at night. Mmmkay, let's say I get checked in to a motel at seven or eight pm and have to get up at four or five am. Just because I took the pill does not mean it acts immediately if not before - it may be an hour or so before it takes effect. So, now we're looking at four to six hours of visiting Mr. Commode starting at eight or nine pm. Which means no sleep for the fat boy. Tubby trucker kinda likes his seven to eight hours of sleep.

So, I get caught up on weekends. I'll double down for two or three days, and spend most of the time off doing number one. If I want to go somewhere and do anything - it has to be timed with the cleansing ritual, unless I feel like embarrassing myself.

During the week, the water build up makes shoes, socks, and clothing ill fitting. I gotta have a belt on to keep the ol' jeans halfway presentable, but it feels like it and the jeans waistband are cutting me in two by the end of the day. When I bend my knees, I can feel the movement is restricted by the extra fluid. I can lose all the weekend's "work" by Monday night, too - I can be swollen like I'd never done a thing about it all weekend long. My watchband is too tight at it's normal setting. By Friday or Saturday, I'm beat from lugging around the extra poundage.

Chris's frustrations are based on the idea that not a lot of his problems were his fault. Mine? Well, let's just say that being the poster boy for how NOT to live your life put me in this position. Eating what I wanted when I wanted in the quantities I wanted, smoking, exercising only when work required it - welp, a self indulgent lifestyle and my body just didn't mix. So while I'm willing to "piss and moan" as it were, the voice inside my head that says: "It's your own fault, dumbass!" just won't go away. Which is just as well, I'd be delusional if I didn't acknowledge my own responsibility.

Plus, I've certainly gained a large measure of sympathy for all you gals out there. When "Aunt Flo" comes calling and y'all retain water and swell up, let's just say in the words of one of our illustrious former Presidents: "I feel your pain." Just that quote, not the "I didn't have sex with that woman" one.

Puppy For Sale

Once again with the raiding of the ol' email inbox!

Whether you own a dog or not, you must appreciate the efforts of this owner to sell her dog.

Read the sales pitch below!

Too Many People Don't Pay Any Taxes

I've got Scott Adam's Blog in my reader - and while he is of a decidedly liberal bent, as a businessman he certainly has some very provocative things to say:

Yesterday I went to Walmart and demanded that they give me a cartload of merchandise for free. This demand was not well-received, so I didn’t get to the second part of my plan which would have involved criticizing the job performance of the people who were giving me free stuff.

Okay, I didn’t really go to Walmart and demand free stuff. You probably knew that because it sounded ridiculous on face value. We all understand that no entity can survive for long if it gives away its resources while asking nothing in return. And this leads me to my point: In the United States, 51% of adults pay zero federal income tax, and yet they have the right to vote. That’s the very definition of a system that can’t last.

Go and read the rest. I find it hard to argue with any of his points.

Shaking My Head

When I'm tooling through the average big city loaded and oversized, I like to really telegraph my intentions when it comes to lane changes. I can usually only see really well on the driver's side, and I can at least see well enough to keep from running over someone to my right. So, I'll throw on the turn signal, and ponderously ease over into the other lane. No sudden moves, and it takes a fair amount of time. I don't slice and dice through traffic.

So, whilst motoring through a six lane portion of I470 in KCMO today, I was firmly parked in the middle lane. Trucks over a certain GVW are prohibited from using the far left lane, so that leaves the two right lanes for us obvious scuzzbuckets. We're so nasty, doncha know. I overtook a slower truck, who, naturally, showed no interest in moving to the right to let me by. So, I sacrificed the standard of only passing on the left and turned on the ol' signals, eased ever so slowly over to the right, and had cancelled my signals (they don't self cancel in a big truck), settling into the lane.

Suddenly I had a car "whoosh" by me on the shoulder, running forty to fifty mph faster than I. This obvious brain surgeon had been running way too fast - but not too fast to shut down and match speeds. Since I was the impediment in his way, it was all my fault that he had to take the shoulder, even though I doubt I'd have seen him coming in a freaking car. He kicked up a bunch of gravel on my hood and windshield, and he let me know I was number one through his sunroof, winding his car up to well over a hundred again. He disappeared from view. Cops? It is to laugh. The "trucker toll collectors" were all busy somewhere else, making sure our nation's highways are safe from drug crazed mouth breathing eighteen wheeler drivers.

Yep, all my fault. And people wonder why truckers have such a sour attitude towards the average driving ability of the average nut behind the wheel of a "four wheeler."

Memorial Day 2011

I've kinda made it my tradition to post pictures of the graves I decorated for Memorial Day. Today was similar to just about every other Memorial Day I can remember, only windier. WeatherBug for Android said gusts were up to sixty two mph. I had to put my foot on the decorations in order to have the time to drive my homemade "C" stakes in the ground. These particular Styrofoam ring based arrangements come with a triangular stand with a small ninety degree single bend on one end so the ring can be stuck there and leaned against the "tripod." I'm sure that works just fine in other parts of the world. I cut the legs and bend 'em into brackets to drive into the ground and hold the ring. Pliers are necessary to help grip the legs to drive them into our drought hardened ground.

One thing I'm gonna do differently is put the pictures below the fold. I'm not sure I had that option last year, but there are a lot of pictures, and not everyone will want to have their pipe ate up loading the things.

Driving Test

News about driving in general seems to attract my attention for some reason, so this kinda jumped out at me:

SPRINGFIELD, Mass. (WWLP) - A study by GMAC Insurance finds that nearly 20% of Americans are unfit for the road and a large percentage of people don't know what a yellow traffic light means.
Phillip Brewer joked, "There's a joke about the green light, red light, and yellow light. Red light means stop and green light means go and yellow light means go faster."
According to the survey 85% of drivers don't know the right thing to do when they come to a yellow light.
GMAC also found that 1 in 5 drivers on the road cannot meet the basic requirements to get a drivers license.

So, with that thought in mind, I offer a test of my own:

Most men will get this right!

You are driving along a narrow two lane road with a NO PASSING sign posted, with double lines, and come upon a bicycle rider. Do you follow this slow-moving bicycle rider for the next 21 miles, or do you break the law and pass?

Which is the correct choice?

Slightly NSFW after the jump.

Aww Crap!

About forgot - today is Towel Day. As in

... a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: nonhitchhiker) discovers that a hitchhiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, washcloth, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet-weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitchhiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitchhiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

So long and thanks for all the fish!

Like An A$$hole in the Sand

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Sniff....

Such a moving tribute.....

H/T MoK

Founding Fathers - Old, Out of Touch and Dead

"No people will tamely surrender their liberties, nor can any be easily subdued, when knowledge is diffusd and virtue is preservd. On the contrary, when people are universally ignorant, and debauchd in their manners, they will sink under their own weight without the aid of foreign Invaders."

--Samuel Adams, letter to James Warren, 1775


Gotta wonder what ol' Sam would have to say with our fascination with starlets who Vajazzle and have bleached their starfish. Why, there is even a Pejazzle kit coming out for men! Aren't we all modern and progressive and forward thinking nowadays!

Hah. Those silly Founding Fathers. Stuffy, rigid, judgmental and (gasp!) religious! What the hell did they know anyhow - this is modern times now. Get with it, dude.

I Let This One Go

It's my policy to line up on snakes on the road, but if I see they are not a rattler, I'll let 'em go. This one - a bullsnake in a pretty shade of brown - decided it wanted no part of me looking at it and fumbling with my phone camera. Most bullsnakes I see are a real dusty light brown, but this one was far darker.

I realized I had a picture of the typical wheat crop in the 'hood at the top of the pic. We call the stuff in the ditch "cheat grass." The wheat crop is gonna be pretty slim this year. For some reason, it seems to demand moisture in a timely fashion - something it has not gotten. Friday we did get some moisture, but it was of the hard frozen pellet variety. The wheat is heading out and it's about half to two thirds as tall as it should be. I don't know if there was anything in the heads for the hail to knock out.

We'll see, I'm sure.

You Can't Go Home Again

In between diligently studying the inside of my eyelids this weekend, there was time to explore (due to extreme boredom at the moment) some of the channels on the ol' Boob Tube that are not on the normal menu for consumption 'round here. I ran across The Looney Tunes Show on one of the cartoon networks. Apparently, it's a modern update to the old Warner Brother's classic shorts that we all grew up on.

Wow, does it ever suck. But, my opinion is no surprise, since I find the "new cleansed of violence and any other sort of objectionable material" cartoons to be as tepid as a bucket of warm spit. The classic shorts were intended for movie theater audiences and thus had broad appeal. The new cartoons are aimed at satisfying some sort of educational/societal panels who object to anything remotely offensive. Geez, what do you suppose humor requires?

Anyways, there was this one short:

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Our old pal Marvin the Martian in a music video parody. I did get a large tee hee outta this one. Hope you do, too.

I Gotta Wonder

What Bill Watterson might think of this cartoon. Heh.

Shocked To Find Gambling Here

Lessee if I've got this right here. A famous bodybuilder turned action adventure actor turned RINO governor of California is in hot water for not keeping Mr. Winky on a leash. The star of the Terminator franchise had such a bad reputation for his behavior both on and off the movie set that he was nicknamed The Gropinator for inappropriate behavior towards women.

And "we"(in the jaded audience seeking cheap thrills sense) are supposed to be shocked?

Really?

Big Earl

That's right. There are absolutely no other industries that receive tax breaks that make money. Nope, none what so ever.The feds never never give tax breaks to - oh, say tech or ag or auto or alternative energy industries. No local government has ever tried to entice businesses to locate in their area with tax breaks and bond issues. Nope, just big oil. They stand alone in this regard, and must be punished.

That's right. Government scientists who have absolutely no personal or political agendas on their dockets. Their views are completely neutral and pure as the driven snow. And don't you forget it - they are standing on the correct side of the issue. Even though they're non political.

Beware!!!

Cats in Tanks from Whitehouse Post on Vimeo.


This is what happens when we forget our place in the great scheme of things - always remember that humans are just staff to cats. Remember, and survive.

Video is a tad gory, too.

I'm Still Kickin'

Welp, I have days and then there are days. Then, there are weeks. Had to go high altitude this last week, and it really sapped me - short of breath even at lower altitudes, so at the end of some pretty long days the creative juices were just not flowing, as it were. Guess I've got good timing considering how Blogger decided to take a dump during my period of not posting!

We had to deliver to a small town slightly northwest of Boise, ID. I've passed through that area before, so it wasn't a totally new experience. We jump up to I80 and go to the Salt Lake area to catch I84. That gets us there. This trip, I84 just off I80 was restricted for wide loads, so we had to go around the beltway in Salt Lake. If there is one thing this ol' country hick just doesn't enjoy, it's gotta be that big city traffic. Actually, it was Boise where we ran into problems - a message board informed of a traffic accident ahead, and that the right two lanes were clear. It took us about an hour and a half to go about two miles, with most of the movement at the end of that time period. We saw a good lookin' babe in a green outfit with a camera guy under an overpass, so the crash must have been newsworthy. Turns out it was - there was the original wreck that the message board referenced, then a car trying to clear several lanes at once hit an end dump - knocking it on it's side. The driver had to be hospitalized. Generally the trucks win in these things.

But, none of us were hurt - just had our blood pressure spike due to impatience. I did get some pics. Not of the crash, it was cleaned up by the time we got there.

This crummy pic is the best of three - I guess the low light screwed with my auto exposure settings. That was morning along I80 near Green River, WY.

This would be one of the "Three Sisters." They are a series of three passes between Fort Bridger and Evanston, WY. Pretty much straight up and straight down - no winding curves there. My kinda mountain pass.

This is a southbound view of the mountains east of I84 immediately north of where I15 splits off.

Just a few miles further south, running on I15 and I84. The unusual large sign like object at the summit of one of the peaks left of the road is actually a bug on my windshield. It should also be noted that Tuesday when we were northbound through here, we were in fact very close to Promontory, Utah, where 142 years ago to the day, the Golden Spike was driven into the final tie of the first Transcontinental Railroad.

Aaaand, last but not least - this was in the really rather charming little motel at Evanston, WY. It had the look of one built in the sixties, but the owners had kept it up quite well. The Prairie Inn is fairly inexpensive, too. Some of these old motels are actually worth the stay - this is one of them.

When I was a kid, I used to always hear that restaurants with trucks parked around them had to be good, since truckers stopped there and "they knew." The truth was and is that there is truck parking available. The food might be crap and the service horrible, but it might be the only place for miles that a trucker could park. The same can be said for motels as well. Lots offer a bit of parking for a few trucks, but motels that have room for many more are kinda rare, particularly if they are wide loads.

So, I'm back at the Farm, and after lengthy and rigorous inspection of the inside of my eyelids I'm starting to feel like a capable human again.

If Only

Compadre and I were driving past where two weeks ago I'd seen a ton of CDOT and CHP personnel stopping and checking trucks (that's Colorado Department of Transportation - mobile enforcement, and Colorado Highway Patrol to you civvies out there).

Me: Yeah, they had that whole turn lane over there packed with DOT and patrol types, with three or four trucks pulled over.

Compadre: Yeah, it's warming up, and they're coming out of the woodwork. We'll be seeing more of them.

Like fleas and ticks sucking blood, eh?

Well, yeah!

Say, you know what we need?

No, what?

We should be able to go to WalMart and buy DOT powder just like the flea and tick stuff. Just sprinkle a little on, and they'll leave us alone.

Happy Mother's Day!

To all the Mothers out there - have a great day! Even though mine is gone, I still remember her. Happy Mother's Day, Mama, and some day we'll meet again.

My Crowning Achievement

Warning - this post is more than likely a poster child for Too Much Information. You have been warned. Don't blame me if you are grossed out.

Now that I've really got your attention - some background info is in order. I've got three dental crowns - two upper front incisors and a molar. One of the incisors and the molar don't stay attached, so I keep some gel type super glue on hand, and just glue them back in. The ol' Dremel cleans out the old glue quite well. While the super glue isn't as long lived as the dental variety, it does save me a ton of money. No dental insurance - unless it's a referral procedure or an emergency.

The incisors are my second set. The first were knocked out during intubation when I was knocked out for a kidney stone zapping. I woke up and felt they were gone, and the attendants had no clue. Apparently I'd put up quite a struggle. A quick xray found them in my stomach.

Their solution? They gave me some rubber gloves, a stack of "stool catchers" that fit over the toilet, and some large tongue depressors to dig through - yep, you guessed it - my stools. Until I found the crowns.

Now, if you're fresh off diaper detail, this may not seem like much of a chore. I, however, was not. It was a chore. I found only one, and my dentist wanted to put in some different ones anyways. His crack insurance staff hounded my company until they went after the hospital for the bill. They knocked 'em out, they should pay. They did.

Okay, fast forward to yesterday afternoon. The incisor crown was a bit loose, but it pretty well has to let go on it's own. I was feeling kinda short blood sugar wise, so I snacked on some pork rinds (yeah, but they're low carb, so there). All of a sudden, I discovered the cap was missing.

Well, great. Okay, what to do. If I could force myself to hurl, what was lost could be found. I looked on the floor just to make sure. Nope, no crown. Mkay, for a thousand bucks, I'll fish through my barf.

Apparently, I'll never be a splurge and purge dieter. I could not do it, no matter how hard I tried. Gag reflex? Not so much. A quick Google search told me I needed some syrup of ipecac. Niiiice - I'm out in the boonies and wouldn't you know it, I'm fresh out of ipecac. Other alternatives? Warm water with table salt. Still have some from years ago - I don't salt my food any more. So, I drank a very salty glass of water.

Still no success. All I did was make myself severely thirsty and bring up my blood pressure. Red faced from the sodium and the exertions, I finally just resorted to drinking about a gallon of iced tea. I was so disgusted, I decided to hell with saving and digging through the excretions from the other end. Screw it, I'd pay the thousand or so bucks to get a new crown.

All that salt didn't help with sweet dreams so much, either. I woke up early and in a foul mood - but the sodium after effects had passed. Other than retaining most of that water - but that's what the diuretics are for, I guess. I like to make Spanish stye omelets for breakfast, so that's just what I did. After I was done, I happened to see something out of the corner of my eye.

Yep, you guessed it. The wayward crown was on the floor several feet from the original search area. Lucky the cat didn't decide to bat it around.

So thank you, God, for not having me sift through disgusting body fluids for a crown that wasn't gonna be there.

Well, That Was Interesting

I got to the motel tonight and fired up the ol' laptop, and when my browser displayed (as it usually does) the cached version of this site, I automatically hit refresh.

Only to find "This site has been removed."

Total surprise to me!


Well, a little digging into Blogger's online help session informed me that there had been suspicious activity in my account, so I had to get a text verification sent to my phone, and select a much better password.

When I opened up Gmail, I also discovered that "I" had been sending spam.

So, if you got one of those messages from me, I apologize, and hopefully this doesn't happen again.

Sorry fuckers....

Damn Straight, Skippy

Best not forget it, and we're not gonna give 'em up, either.

Do You Know Your Fifties Cars?

You got 81% (39 right out of 48). The average score is 73%

Something different today - step right up, try your luck, see if you can beat the score! Play American Torque's Car Show Game - 1950s!

I don't know my Chrysler products, or a bunch of the "off breeds." I did ok on the Ford and GM stuff, though. Heh.

H/T Road Pig

My First Thought

And I'm sure I wasn't the first, but anyways.

Okay, Bin Laden was buried at sea - "according to Muslim customs." Mmmkay, I'm betting the Navy had an imam or some such say the proper words, the proper teeth were knashed and so on.

But I'll betcha something else, too.

I'm for wagering that particular terrorist went to meet Allah with some bacon shoved up his ass.

And I have absolutely no problem with the idea.

I'd Always Wondered

Now I know.

Ouch! That Left A Mark!

Normally, Mike Luckovitch simply irritates me. This cartoon, however, displays a fine level of snark. Amazing how that works - the cartoonist is a genius if they agree with me!

Ms. Couric's journo creds have never impressed me much, since she wears her politics on her sleeve. She's hardly bothered to hide any of her biases. Buh bye, Katie - don't let the door hit ya where ya sit on the way out! Make sure you have yourself a time covering the "Wedding of the Century" before ya go - that sort of story is right up your alley.

Torpedo Test

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Highly impressive!

Had I been in the service, it would have been the Navy for this landlubber. However, I fear submarine duty would have to be right out, and not just because I'm too large. I dunno if smaller physiques are a requirement or not anymore, but the Navy wouldn't want me in a small tube for weeks at a time. Just sayin.'


H/T My Nuckle Kim, the ol' Mariner of the family

{Sniff}

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Why was I not made of stone like thee???

This scene makes my eyes water every time, and it ain't because I'm chopping onions.

My Wagon Won't Do This

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It won't smoke the tires and so far it's failed to attract a stylish accessory as depicted in the video.

Dang.

H/T Jed